


Please Please Me

by mankindness



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:37:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1546151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mankindness/pseuds/mankindness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is tense, Trevor knows just what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Please Me

Trevor and Michael were still laying low in Sandy Shores, trying to keep under the radar and stay out of the clutches of Martin Madrazo and his men. Yet despite Michael's concern for his well being, he had ventured away from the relative safety of Trevor's trailer to have a smoke.

He climbed up onto the ridge that led to the scrap strewn sand and sat down, inhaling a long drag on his cigarette, taking in the sight before him. The Alamo Sea, reflecting the astonishingly large Mount Chiliad in its murky waters; the sky coloured a warm pink that was becoming gradually darker.

Living in the city, Michael found it easy to forget what laid beyond Vinewood Hills. It _is_ beautiful, Michael thought- at least until he turned around and was faced with the rusty shacks, derelict buildings, and local yokels who seemed constantly up for a fight.

So he kept looking forward and focused on the natural aspects while wisps of smoke swirled around him. Michael thought about his family, Los Santos, about Trevor and how he'd caused such a fuck up of a situation by kidnapping Patricia Madrazo.

Of course, he had to admit that he didn't hate it. There were many parts that were thrilling, making him want to get out there and cause even more trouble, as was his nature. However, he wasn't entirely fond of being hunted down like an animal and isolated to part of the state. Just as long as it didn't continue much longer, he could handle it.

The silence of the place was starting to get to Michael when a coyote screeched somewhere behind him. He flicked the cigarette stub away, uneasily stepped down from the ridge, then patted the sand off his shorts.

The short walk back to the trailer was made longer with Michael stepping slowly to gaze up at the sky- even that was at polar opposites compared to the city. It was the difference a few hours' drive made; completely clear of clouds, and completely covered in twinkling stars. The city's pollution meant that it had been years since Michael had seen something as spectacular. It was quite calming, and nearly made him forget the reason he was standing there, staring at stars in the first place.

Ron's blazer was parked outside the trailer's garage, but there was no other sign of the man, nor of Trevor. But Michael didn't think about it, going inside and finding Patricia Madrazo asleep peacefully on Trevor's bed. Gently, Michael closed the fold-out door as far as it would go, so he wouldn't disturb the poor woman by watching TV.

It seemed he needn't have bothered with that courtesy, as the television was already switched on and blaring. He lowered the volume then grabbed a beer, leaning on the kitchen counter and considering what to do. The couch wasn't appealing for a bed, but he couldn't exactly go and cuddle up with Mrs. Madrazo. Also, Trevor was absent- which was worrying considering they had to stay quiet.

He sighed wearily and resorted to checking through his emails on his phone, as the cartoon on TV wasnt much for entertainment. Although the messages were apparently enough to grasp Michael's attention for a minute, meaning he didn't hear the door opening. Meaning Trevor sneaking up behind him went unheard. In fact, Michael wasn't at all aware of Trevor's presence until the man's arms were slipped under his own and wrapped around his torso, pulling the two men closely together. Instinctively, Michael tensed in Trevor's arms, until he realised who was holding him, so he relaxed slightly.

"Trevor?"

"Who else would it be?" Trevor said, and Michael wondered if it was a quip about Michael's sex life, or lack thereof.

Trevor's thumbs dipped beneath the waistband of Michael's cargo shorts. His skin was cold, and it made Michael flinch a little in response.

"You're kinda tense, Mikey," Trevor observed, his chin coming to rest on Michael's shoulder.

"What do you expect? We're being fuckin' hunted, T," Michael retorted, but he became distracted with Trevor's hands by his groin.

"And? Don't be such a pussy, Townley. They're not gonna find us here," Trevor let the following silence linger, watching Michael wait for more. He skimmed his lips up Michael's neck, stopping when he reached his ear. "You sure you're not tense 'cause of... somethin' else?" Trevor murmured, his voice low. When Michael involuntarily shivered, he could feel Trevor's smug smile against his skin. He knew what Trevor was getting to.

Michael was proved right when the man embracing him stroked his cock through his shorts, while rolling his hips against Michael's ass. Trevor wasn't hard, much to Michael's surprise, but the grind on him made him gasp nonetheless. But Michael hated the fact that Trevor was absolutely right. The stress of being exiled from Los Santos, and the lack of any sexual activity for a while had him so pent up that he was in dire need of a release- which was being offered to him, and Trevor had, once again, got Michael from nought to sixty embarrassingly fast. And he could've sworn he was getting blue balls already.

"Mmm, you fuckin' like that, dontcha'?" Trevor rubbed his palm around Michael's hardening cock, still the material barrier between them.

Thankfully for Michael, Trevor didn't hang around before starting to undo the shorts. The button popped out easily, and the zip came down slow. Trevor craned his neck, licking his lips at the bulge in his boxers. Michael shifted in the hold, feeling his cock throbbing with need. Trevor's hand disappeared into the boxers, the other travelling in the opposite direction, sliding up the back of Michael's shirt. Using the tips of his fingers, Trevor teased Michael's dick, working his way up to the sensitive head and swiping his thumb over it.

"Fucking hell," Michael said breathlessly, grabbing Trevor's arm.

The boxers were pushed down roughly, just enough to free Michael's cock, which was gripped tightly at the base. Trevor began to build up a pace, alternating between tightening and loosening his grip on Michael's shaft as he worked it up and down. Michael grunted and bucked his hips forward for a better view of the tattooed hand jerking him off exactly how he liked it.

"Oh, Mikey," Trevor's voice was at Michael's ear. "I just wanna bend you over and fuck your pretty little ass," His other hand descended to squeeze Michael's ass cheek. "Not so little, though, huh?" He added, with a smirk. Michael ignored the latter part.

"Why don't you?" Michael replied, the sense of desperation in his voice almost palpable, giving Trevor even more reason to have that self satisified look.

"Errands, cupcake. Somethin' to do with some dumbass bikers," He stroked Michael harder in the hope that would distract him from protesting, or maybe even result in him missing Trevor's words all together. It was partly successful.

Michael groaned with the pleasure, but afterwards tried turning his head to look at Trevor.

"No, T, you can't be doing anything like that," He attempted a serious tone, but he sounded croaky.

"Don't shit yourself, Mikey. I'm only tracking their movements. Surveillance," A few merciless tugs of Michael's dick came with Trevor's next words. "Nothing to worry about,"

And apparently that was that. Michael wasn't going to complain more- from a combination of realising it'd be useless to attempt, and being too horny to really care.

When Trevor added flicks and twists to every other stroke of his cock, Michael choked on a moan, holding on tighter to the lifeline that was Trevor's arm, his other hand slamming down onto the counter.

Usually he wouldn't have such a strong reaction to just a handjob, yet keeping in mind how worked up he was, and the fact that it was Trevor upped the intensity. It was as if the man had studied him throughout the years. He knew how to make him into a trembling mess in the palm of his hand. For Trevor, it was so easy.

Michael's shirt was still hunched up at the back, so Trevor pulled his head away, looking for the freckles he knew were on Michael's back. He walked his fingers up his back, letting them trace around the freckles on the slightly sweaty skin. Michael was aware of what he was up to; he'd done it before and for some reason unbeknownst to Michael, Trevor enjoyed doing it.

But Michael didn't want Trevor to lose focus on the main matter in hand, so he thrusted into Trevor's fist. It worked, as Trevor resumed his previous position, nipping at Michael's neck and jerking him faster.

"Oh, god," Michael whined, glancing down at his leaking cock enclosed by Trevor's fingers. He tilted his head back, lips parted slightly.

"I know how much you _love_ this, Mikey," Trevor purred, breath hot on Michael's throat which was wet from his tongue. "Remember back when you were scared shitless about the cops and being caught..." It felt like Trevor was kissing around his ear. "...so I jerked you off while you were driving," Michael swallowed hard, mouth dry, only just realising how unsafe their vehicular activities must have been.

"Yeah," Michael breathed, barely clinging onto Trevor's words. It really didn't matter what he said, so long as he carried on, because the deep tone of his voice would be enough to get him off.

"I wanted us to get caught, though. I wanted everyone to see how fucking horny I can get ya, how I can make you come with just my hand and voice," A squeeze around Michael's cock punctuated his words, followed with a cry from the man. "I still got it," Trevor smiled proudly.

That was when the sound of rapid footsteps outside got closer, accompanied by a familiar voice.

"Trevor, I just saw four of those bikers drive past-" Ron informed, opening the door, but his sentence came to an abrupt stop. Michael tensed again, trying to move, though Trevor held him in place, not moving at all himself.

"Jesus Christ, _Ronald_ ," Trevor scolded, not even looking around at him. "Can't Mikey and I have _two fucking minutes_ of privacy?" Ron was back out of the door quickly, a string of repeated apologies following him.

Michael said nothing regarding the interruption, not wanting to spoil the moment further. He was so close, fidgeting in Trevor's arms and fucking into his hand.

"Shit, T, oh god, I'm gonna come," Michael panted, fingernails digging in to Trevor's forearm.

"Okay," Trevor muttered, pulling away and twisting Michael around so he was leaning against the counter.

Trevor was down on his knees, and his mouth expertly down to the hilt of Michael's dick, sucking hard, head bobbing fast. Michael came in an instant, cock pulsing as Trevor got him through it, growling around the length in his mouth. Michael damn near screamed, loud enough for Ron to hear outside, loud enough to wake Patricia and likely half of Sandy Shores.

Trevor stood, watching as Michael tried to recover. After a moment Trevor gave him a lazy kiss, mostly for the dirty feeling he got, just having Michael come in that mouth.

"You planned Ron walking in on us, didn't you?" Michael said, looking at Trevor, eyes heavy lidded.

" _Jeez_ , that's the thanks I get for giving you the best fucking sexual experience of your life? No. 'Course not," Trevor argued, but he didn't sound utterly convincing. "Anyway, we got caught and it wasn't bad. Hopefully you'll be less petrified now," Michael smiled in a way that reminded Trevor of the old him.

"Yeah. Yeah, maybe," Michael said, shaking his head at the same time.

"So, looks like I gotta leave, _darlin'_ ," He leaned in close and talked quieter as if someone was listening. "You up for returning the favour later?"

"Whatever you want, T," Michael said genuinely.

"Fuck, this is better than Christmas!" Trevor exclaimed, bounding out the trailer. Michael watched through the window as Trevor talked to Ron as if nothing had happened, then drive past view. He done up his shorts, turning back to his beer and cartoons, looking forward to the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song of the same name by the Beatles, no copyright infringement intended, of course.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
